


2am, My Mind Runs Wild

by catnip



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, found father and son bonding, more character introspection than plotty, pre-relationship but they both know they are idiots in love and it's only a matter of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 22:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16206767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnip/pseuds/catnip
Summary: Markus gets a late night call about a break in at the manor. Everything is fine, but it takes some time for him to believe it.





	2am, My Mind Runs Wild

**Author's Note:**

> This fic got a little bit away from me, but I managed to hog tie it back into something I was happy with. I wanted to do something focused on Markus, something featuring his relationship with Carl, and I can't resist that good rk1k relationship. So, this was born. Unbeta'd so all mistakes fall on me.

_"Before I say anything else, I want you to know everyone is safe and the situation is well under control. But, someone did try to break into the house this evening."_

As soon as Markus had finished his conversation with Greg, Carl’s full time caretaker, he had grabbed his keys and been on his way. In fact, he’d been jacket half on and searching for his shoes before they had said their goodbyes. Greg had done a half-hearted job of trying to convince him that there was no need for him to come all the way over at near 2 in the morning. He had known that it would have been a wasted effort. Markus had to be there.

In fact he was thankful for the late hour in the end, the streets a bit quieter and traffic lessened. It put him at Carl’s in record time. That, and more than a bit of speeding. An old worry he thought long settled tried to crawl up from his memories and he revved the engine just a little louder to drown it out. _This apartment is nice, but is it too far away? Should I be closer?_

In spite of Greg’s assurances, the sight of only one police cruiser in the driveway as he pulled his bike in was the first thing to tick his stress levels down. It couldn’t be that serious, then. He parked and jogged the way to the front door, hands clenching and releasing just so slightly at his sides in an attempt to keep his calm. 

He reminded himself, thought looping over and over in his mind in a self soothing background process, that nothing serious had happened. Everything was fine. Carl was safe, the house was safe. No one was hurt. Targeted. His family was still safe.

In the foyer Greg was already waiting for him, looking as calm as he ever did. Another percentage of stress ticked away at the sight. Markus glanced around, but there were no officers or activity where he could see it.

“Where is he?”

“In his room, safe and sound.” Greg let a hand rest on Markus’s shoulder, the other lightly on his forearm. A gesture both of comfort and stability. One that he had done many times himself, to countless other androids, a fact that would bring a twitch of a grin to his lips when he replayed this memory later. “The intruder never even made it into the main house. But I know you won’t be satisfied until you see him with your own eyes, so come on. That officer has been keeping him company until you came.” 

The hands guided him to the stairs now, helping to quell the manic rush that it must have been obvious Markus had been stuck in until now. Reminding him to take it slow.

It had been strange, at first. Turning his old job over to someone else. In the beginning, before stand downs and negotiations and politics, there had been little Markus could do for Carl but worry from afar. Little time he could spare to think of his health, his safety, when his own was constantly in peril. When his people were in peril. The one visit he had risked had been foolish enough. But after, when the dust had begun to settle, Markus could admit that some small part of him wanted to return to his old life. His old home. Go back to simply being Carl’s caretaker. It was an easy and familiar road to take after so much struggle and uncertainty.

Carl had rightly called him out on the idea.

_”Don’t be an idiot, Markus. I know you aren’t one.”_

_Despite his mood Markus let a small chuckle slip. “Thanks. I think.”_

_“This was never where you were really meant to be, we both know that. Forced to take care of an old man in his twilight years. And I appreciate all that you did for me,” he added sharply, already seeing that Markus was beginning to open his mouth to object, “but I think the whole world knows by now that your talents were clearly wasted here.”_

_Carl took his hand, and Markus stepped closer. “And who knows Markus. Maybe months from now, you’ll find you don’t want to be where you are anymore. You took them this far but you don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders forever. Hell, maybe you’ll retire from politics and become the first android to open up a bakery. You always did make a pretty mean cherry pie for me.”_

_Markus laughed, both at the absurd idea and the obvious humor in Carl’s eyes as he said it. “I’ll keep that idea in mind, as a backup.”_

_“Always good to keep an open mind. But my point is,” he gave Markus’s hand a tap, “nobody figures everything out all at once. The universe takes you places, whether you want it to or not. Just part of life. Welcome to it, my boy.”_

So, Markus had let go of his misplaced worries, or had been trying his best since then. Sometimes with more success than others. He counted them both lucky that Greg had been happy to continue to stay and help Carl – as a full salaried employee now of course – and it had been one weight at least lifted off his shoulders. 

Still, on a night like tonight he couldn’t help the guilt that sparked through every wire inside him and strangled out rational thought. Found it hard not to feel a sense of wrongness at someone else being there when his mind told him it should have been him.

The path up the stairs and down the hall to Carl’s room was well worn in his mind and he made his way there quickly despite the swirling distraction his thoughts provided. The door was half cracked, and without hesitation he pushed it aside and stepped in.

“Dad-”

Markus had heard of the human superstition that if someone was talking about you, your ears would start to burn. Staring at Carl and Connor now, he had a feeling that if he weren’t an android his own might have been on fire. The quiet conversation that he had picked up from outside the room came to an abrupt halt, two sets of eyes now focused on him instead. _That officer,_ Greg had said, and that he had tuned out the statement totally was more proof that Markus needed to come back to planet Earth. 

Carl was propped up comfortably in his bed, looking at ease if not a bit tired. His greeting smile was soft, familiar. Mischievous. Connor sat in a chair that had been pulled to the bedside, back straight and expression giving nothing away. He looked his usual well put together self in his suit and tie despite the late hour.

“Hello Markus. I was just finishing taking Carl’s statement.”

Markus hadn’t been expecting a familiar face, but seeing him now it made sense. Connor had told him before that he and the Lieutenant still handled a majority of android related cases, as many as they could manage. They had the most experience, and Connor was still the only android of any upper rank on the force, the wheels of the department as slow to change as the rest of the world. Perhaps Carl was considered android adjacent then, enough so that he fell under their umbrella. Or perhaps it was just luck. Whatever the reasons, seeing Connor sitting there, he could feel the knot inside him begin to untangle further, stress levels dropping lower and lower by the moment. The case would be in good hands.

“More like keeping me occupied. I was just telling Connor about that time at that charity event, you know the one, where I ran over Angela Burdett’s foot with my chair.” Markus remembered. And thought that Carl spoke with a bit more pride than maybe he should have, considering he broke the woman’s foot. 

Connor’s professional passive face broke, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small grin as he turned back to Carl. “It did sound like she deserved it.”

“Damn right she did.”

The event had been memorable for a few reasons. The first being not the incident itself, but that it was one of only a few social events through the years that Carl had gone to with little complaint, begrudgingly agreeing it was for a good cause. Markus could remember that Mrs. Burdett had spent most of the evening complaining, loudly, about most everything. The art up for auction, the food, the temperature, the music. At one point she had approached him as he was looking at a painting and demanded he fetch her a fresh drink, seeming not to care that he clearly was not one of the service androids employed by the gallery.

It had not been long after that when she was forced to hobble her way out of the building and to a waiting ambulance. Markus had chastised Carl for his behavior, his “it was an accident” explanation clearly a lie, but the event sparked a strangely positive response in his programming that he hadn’t been able to understand at the time. 

Markus continued to stare at the pair, silently questioning what had brought the story up in the first place, but neither of them offered any further explanation. Connor stood from his seat, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his clothes as he did. “I’ll go downstairs and check on the officers still in the studio, make sure everything is in hand. Take your time talking.” Connor then extended his hand for a shake, and Carl took it. “It was nice to meet you Mr. Manfred.”

“Carl. And likewise. Markus talks about you often, nice to finally meet the person behind the stories.”

Connor seemed to hesitate a moment, but simply nodded and smiled before turning away from the bed. He looked at Markus once more, smile growing the smallest bit and turning the embarrassment that had been flooded through Markus’s systems into a flutter of something else entirely. But he said nothing more, simply inclined his head again toward him before slipping out the door and leaving them alone.

Markus took the now empty seat and for a time he simply looked at Carl. Looked him over, gaze careful, brows furrowed, running through a routine of scans well memorized. Carl waited without comment as he did so, letting Markus take the time he needed. Once satisfied – finally, finally – Markus let out a sigh. Wholly unnecessary, and yet he could almost feel the tension leave him as he did. The joints in his body also seemed to loosen and he eased more comfortably into the chair.

“Everything alright?” Carl’s tone was teasing, but the affection in his expression was plain.

“Yes. So now you can tell me, what happened exactly?”

“Ah,” Carl waved away his question, settling down further into his bed, “never mind that. Let that friend of yours tell you all the boring details. Wasn’t nearly as exciting as all this fuss makes it seem.”

Markus thought about pushing, his need to know the priority task now that Carl’s safety was assured, but he decided to let it go. “Good. You’re getting up there in years you know, too much excitement wouldn’t be advisable.”

“This coming from my son that single-handedly started a revolution. If I can handle that, I can handle anything.”

Markus laughed. Laughed harder than such a simple joke warranted, in truth. But he let the comfort of Carl’s voice, the easy banter, the rush of feelings the word _son_ still gave him help him to expel just a small bit more of the burdens that were weighing him down. It had been 1 week, 4 days since he had been able to sit here in this house and have a moment to simply be himself again. Too long.

His laughter tapered off, and Markus let his head fall back and rest on the top of the chair. Let his eyes focus their attention on a familiar painting on the wall and the way the shadows of the room cast over it.

“Sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Can’t be everywhere.”

“Yeah. I know. But still.”

He said nothing more, letting himself simply be in the moment. A rare occasion, and one he cherished. Carl watched him, happy to just let him be, and though Markus found that all he wanted to do was to relax into it for a bit longer he knew Carl needed his rest. And he still needed to find out what, exactly, had happened. Moment here, moment gone. Mustering up all the effort he could he forced his limbs to move and push himself up, palms slapping slightly against the wooden armrests of the chair at the momentum. 

“Alright. Time for you to go back to your beauty sleep. I’ll make sure to come by later this afternoon, and we can catch up then.” Carl nodded his agreement and let Markus help adjust the pillows and blankets into their proper place. “Goodnight Carl.”

“G’night Markus.”

The nightstand lamp turned off with a click, comfortable darkness settling. But just as Markus was about to leave the soft rumble of Carl’s voice caught him in the doorway.

“Bring Connor around again too, if you like. He’s as charming as you made him sound.”

“Carl-”

“I know, I know.” He let out a soft laugh, more air than noise, “It’s complicated. I’ll cut you some slack. Just don’t forget to live a little for yourself sometimes, Markus. Can’t always be about pleasing everyone else.”

In the light streaming in from the hall Markus could see Carl’s gaze, intent and clear despite his fatigue. He gave him a small nod in response, which seemed to satisfy him enough for now, and Carl closed his eyes to sleep.

Markus let the door slide closed behind him and took a moment to gather himself. Carl always had a way of giving him too much to think about with just a few words – and he knew he was right. But knowing something and doing something were still two completely different things. 

But he brushed that aside for now, straightening up and opening up his sensors to take in the rest of the house. He was alone up here, lights dimmed to their lowest settings already, the soft bustle of activity seeming to all be centered down in the studio. He could hear Connor and Greg talking softly as he approached, both glancing to him as he entered. He scanned the room, noting that the officers Connor mentioned earlier seemed to already be gone, but his attention was quickly caught by one of the now half broken glass walls that stood at one end of the space.

“Holy shit.”

He made a beeline over to the damage, missing the bemused expressions the other two androids exchanged behind his back. Greg quietly said his goodbyes and excused himself, leaving Connor to finish up the last threads of his job. 

“As you have probably guessed, this damage was a result of the break in. Once all the proper paperwork has been processed it should be a simple enough matter to get Carl’s home insurance to replace the glass.”

“How the hell did they manage to break this glass? It’s not exactly thin.” Markus looked at Connor, now standing next to him, finally noticing his expression. A smile that seemed to only grow as he had been speaking. “What’s that look for?”

“You are not usually one to curse. It is slightly amusing to hear.” Then Connor visibly centered himself, returning to a neutral expression and focusing his attention to the damage before them. A detective at a crime scene once more. Markus half regretted saying anything at the loss of his casual ease. “We will have to wait for tests to say what the substance or substances are for certain, but the intruder appears to have been under the influence of something. Also, he had help from a lawn ornament.” He took a few steps away, gesturing out toward a patch of hedges on the far part of the yard. “He entered through that area, retrieved the ornament as he cased the yard, and soon after began his attempts to break the glass. Of course entering the yard tripped the silent alarm you have in place. Police arrived before he was able to create a large enough gap to squeeze through.”

“So he never made it into the house?” Markus knew that. Had been told that, several times over, but he found himself unable to file the fact away into his mind as truth just yet. 

“So he never made it into the house.” Connor turned to him, hands slipping into his pants pockets. “Officially, the suspect has been taken to the hospital to treat the minor injuries he sustained and then he will be questioned about the crime and his motives before a report will be filed. Unofficially, I can tell you with certainty that this was a random act. It had nothing to do with you, Markus.”

And just like that those words, coming from Connor with such authority and surety, gave him the last bit of peace of mind he had been seeking. If he was a smart man, he would tell himself to question why Connor could have that effect on him. How he could always turn to him in moments of doubt and find himself comforted by the certainty the other android seemed to carry with him. Especially when he knew that at times that certainty was as false as his own. He should ask himself if it was wise to let himself be swayed so easily by another. But right now he was not a smart man, simply a man with a guilty conscience in need of soothing, and he welcomed the comfort.

“I’ve told Carl before we could hire bodyguards. At least one, someone to ensure his safety if anything happened. But he refused. Said he didn’t need another android looming over him 24/7.” Markus smiled, but the regret in his eyes dragged down any joy that had been there along with it. “I also thought about suggesting moving perhaps, to somewhere new that we could keep private, but...”

“But you wouldn’t want him to, not really.”

“This is his home. Asking him to leave it behind just to ease my mind seemed wrong.”

“And it’s your home too, Markus. You’ve told me before how much you enjoy visiting when you have time.” Connor closed the distance between them again, closer than before this time. The line of his shoulders eased and his face softened as he moved into Markus’s space. His voice quieting. “You shouldn’t have to give that up, not after everything. You deserve it.”

So close like this, enough that all Markus had to do was lift his hand only a little to brush against Connor, his memory helpfully supplied just how long it had been since they had been face to face together. 17 days. He shuttered the countdown before it began to tick uselessly into hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds. They spoke often – messages exchanged, quiet conversations over a voice link when they both had the focus to spare – but it wasn’t the same. 

They were two workaholics dedicating every moment of time they could wrest from the day to help their people. Not much room for socialization there.

He at least no longer tried to delude himself, tell himself that whatever was between them was all in his imagination. They were both far past that point. So instead they danced this dance, orbiting each other from afar and never moving any closer, kept in place by outside forces. And maybe, his mind added, that was a poor choice of comparisons – he’d like to hope that if he bridged this gap between them, the results would be less disastrous than two planets colliding. 

“I’m used to giving up things.”

Connor’s face shifted at that. Part of Markus rebuked the obvious pity he could see there. Saw it too often from North, from Josh, from Simon. He didn’t need it from Connor too. So he pushed through the gloom of the conversation, stepped away, pretended to exam the damaged glass wall once again.

“How long do you think it will take to process everything? The report, and whatever else. I admit I still don’t fully understand police procedure.”

Connor made a small humming noise, considering the question. Markus had noticed some time back that he had picked up the habit. Small _hmm_ s and _ahh_ s as his programs processed things. It was impossibly human, and impossibly cute. “I would think two days, maximum. I am very prompt with my paperwork.”

Markus let out a chuckle, glancing back at him, happy to now instead be greeted by a smile that could only be described as cheeky. “And your partner? Are your habits finally rubbing off on him?”

“That is still a work in progress. But he is off duty tonight, so no need to worry about his distaste for procedure interfering.” Markus raised an eyebrow, prompting Connor to further explain, “I happened to be listening in on a police scanner I keep in my apartment when the call came in. The head officer on the scene was only too glad to hand the matter over to me when I arrived.”

“You…. listen to the police scanner in your free time?”

“Yes.” The reply came without hesitation, or embarrassment.

Markus shook his head, both in disbelief at the confession and to banish Carl’s words from earlier as they tried to replay in his head. “I suppose I’m the last person who should judge, but I think there are probably better ways to spend your time.”

“Possibly. I have in fact been trying to expand my reading into more non-fiction works lately as a method of relaxation.” Connor shrugged, “But I am able to do both at the same time. And I am happy that I could be here tonight to help.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Conversation fizzled out. Markus could only pretend to stare at glass for so long, and Connor could let him do it for only so long, before it became strange. Prompt after prompt appeared to him but Markus found himself dismissing all of them, unable to settle on a choice. After so long apart it felt like he should have so much to say, and yet.

Connor seemed to not share this difficulty, stepping toward him after a moment. Letting their arms brush against each other.

“So,” he began, not looking at Markus, but upward. At the spiraling spiderweb of cracks in the glass wall, at the stars above, at nothing. Markus couldn’t guess, “in two days I will need you to come to the station. While I know Carl is more than capable, I assume that you would rather be the one to handle signing necessary documents and clearing loose ends?” Connor looked to him then, and he only nodded in reply, sensing that there was more to come. “That should be easily done. I will have everything prepared. And after we have gone over everything, I will invite you to join me in a weeks time at the opera.”

Markus had been nodding along, but when his audio processors finally caught up to the end of the sentence he paused. “The… opera?”

“Yes. I bought two tickets, and have been attempting to convince Hank to join me, but I already expect him to be busy,” Markus could practically hear the air quotes around busy, “so I will have a spare ticket. It is the type of activity I think you would appreciate, and you need a night off, so I will offer it to you.”

If Markus still had an LED he knew it would be traffic light yellow at the moment, and he let his eyes stray just far enough to take in the one Connor kept. Relaxed and blue. With an expression to match.

“Consider it and tell me your answer then.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

He had no idea what the show was, wasn’t about to waste the seconds it would take mentally searching for the information. Wasn’t going to check his calendar to see what he might have already crammed into his schedule for that day. Already knew he was going to say yes, no matter what. Knew it wasn’t quite a date – he was taking someone else’s place, a friend filling in. But that didn’t stop the warmth sweeping through his circuits.

Small steps. Perhaps that is simply what they would have to take.

Connor nodded, letting his body brush against Markus once again as he turned, “Be sure to get some rest tonight, Markus. I’ll take care of everything. So for once, don’t worry.”

 _Don’t worry._ He heard those words over and over, from friends, politicians, supporters. From himself. Hard words to believe in, in the face of the hills still ahead. But hearing them now, he did. He wanted to find the words to tell Connor that, tell him how much his support always meant. But they didn’t come. Not here. Not yet.

“You get some rest too. Don’t work too hard on my account.”

Connor smiled and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Goodnight, Markus. We’ll be in touch.” Then he was gone, slipping out of the studio and into the evening.

Again Carl’s advice came up in his mind, and he let it loop quietly in the background of his thoughts as he made the decision to turn away from the front door and instead climb the steps. As he entered the room that had become his and changed his clothes for bed. As he sent off a message to North about his overnight stay and that he wasn’t sure if he would be in to their makeshift offices tomorrow. Let it replay and let himself analyze as he laid down in bed to go on standby for a few hours. And maybe, as he nestled down into the too soft comforter he had picked out himself, Connor’s voice became overlayed with it all, and he grinned as he began to ready his system for sleep. Yeah, he could live a little for himself – if it meant Connor came along with him.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come say hello and scream at me about DBH over at [my tumblr!](http://depmode.tumblr.com/). also, if any of you out there are opera buffs, feel free to tell me which one you think they'd enjoy watching best.... haha. im curious!


End file.
